There once was a cripple who begged for food in front of a luxury buffet. The owner refused to share even table scraps with him, and thus the beggar died the next morning.
Death jogs beside Sarah Flowers while wearing an X-Small Hoodie and black shorts. As they turn the corner of the park trail, the skeleton lifts his arm and checks his watch—numbers flash 19:00, a horrible mile time. The ankle weights upon his tiny legs are working. Eighty-pound shackles allow Death to run sixteen minutes slower than usual.
Walking beside him is a woman with dark bangs matted to her sweaty forehead. Charcoal hair grazes Sarah’s shoulders— all styled up in a messy bob like a rocker chick. Her pasty skin glistens beneath the July sun. The lass was wheezing and on the verge of crying—she had hands propped on love handles oozing off a set of enormous hips. Melon sized breasts bounce within her black sportsbra. Tree-trunk thighs and a gargantuan ass jiggle in leggings as she walks upon the gravel.
“Head up! Back straight, Flowers! You have too much bulk on your chest for that posture! You can’t breathe properly while hunched over.” Death orders like a high-pitched Sergeant. “Come on, 40 pounds to gain and 4 miles to go. Your strong, I know you can carry that weight! I said keep pushing!”
“Just leave me alone, runt!” Sarah says while covering her ears. “I can’t do this! I fucking can’t!” She adds while tears trickle down her flushed cheeks. “I’m too damn fat!”
Death slows his jog, and then backpedals—the midget doesn’t stop until his head is beside Sarah’s massive thigh. “Look, Flowers. I’ve never had someone fail their Repentance Challenge. I’m not letting you throw in the towel! You’re only twenty-three for god’s sake!” Death says while pumping his arms.
Sarah places a hand on her chest while slowing down— slowing to a pace that was very close to stopping.
“I don’t care! This is too fucking hard!” Sarah wheezes while her spine hunches forward. “My chest hurts, my back hurts, everything fucking hurts.” She says while her hefty tits ruin her posture. “My chest is so tight I can’t even breathe!”
Death slows down even more. “Flowers, you’re not a weak lady. If you can carry the twins at your ritzy eatery you can carry them now.”
“I wasn’t weighing more than elephant yesterday, you jackass!” Sarah barks while storming ahead—causing the orbs of blubber on her rear to wobble like jello.
Sarah huffs and puffs while continuing along the park trail. Her gut bulges far beyond the waistband of her bike shorts. The tub of fat would weigh forty pounds if she dropped her belly onto a scale of justice. A tape measure would get tight after stretching two feet to wrap around Sarah’s navel.
“I’m so tired of this shitty kid, why can’t Death just come and take my soul to Hell?” The woman says while trudging past a wooden sign which read Purgatory Park.
Death remains silent while jogging up to Sarah. “As if I’d give up on a soul whose alternate fate led to the creation of the best soup kitchens in history.”
Death continues running with a determined gaze. Sarah was by far the most weak-willed person he had ever asked Big Boss to give a second chance. Purgatory had merely transformed into New York Central Park on a scorching summer day. Sarah's repentance challenge was just to run 9 miles…while gaining ten permanent pounds of fat after each mile. However, it was quite a load for a butterball who tipped the scales at 5’6 and 200.
Sarah would have to carry the cripple’s weight (and her own)…if she wanted to wake up from her coma at the hospital. Right now, doctors were puzzled as to how she was "growing" when not even being conscious.
“How does anyone expect me to finish in 4 hours when I’m lugging two suitcases of lard on my ass?” Sarah wheezes as her enormous hips swing side to side like a pendulum as she walks ahead of Death.
The entity blushes as he imagines Sarah nude and bent over—shaking her giant rear against his scythe like a pole dancer.
“Aww…so you stayed in kiddie form so you wouldn’t scare me? How thoughtful, Death. But how about you show me your adult self so we can have some fun?”
Death slaps his palm against his forehead. “Cut it out! Too young. Too young.” He whispers.
The skeleton sighs, and then checks his watch. The time was 19:34—Flowers was close to finishing mile number 6 in time.
“I can’t do this anymore! I just can’t! ” Sarah wheezes with both hands upon her mighty hips.
Death jogs up from behind Sarah’s ass and positions himself next to her.
“Flowers, I know you don’t want to go to hell. If you wanted to burn for eternity, you would’ve jumped into the flames instead of following me here.” Death replies.
“Burning in hell doesn’t sound bad in the slightest, pipsqueak.” Sarah says while looking at Death with her sweat-drenched face. “So I Qui—“
Death’s face twists into a giant eyeball. He lunges forward and wraps his arms around Sarah’s neck. The deity holds his pulsating visage an inch away from her nose.
Sarah releases a glass-shattering scream and throws the monstrosity aside. She runs down the trail while calling for divine help. Death’s face reverts back to a skull as his body hits the grass. He sits up and then curls himself into a ball while blushing.
He hadn’t felt giant boobs squashed against his chest—or any boobs for that matter—since the height of the Roman Empire.
As Sarah runs beneath a corridor of trees shielding her from the sun, her huge breasts surge forward with ten pounds of fat. The orbs of flab stretch the fabric of the sportsbra to its limit. Sarah winces in pain while her spine gives in to the anchors of meat on her chest. Her gargantuan ass ripples with each stomp upon the gravel. Her gut jiggles while bulging forward with three more inches of flab. Her arms and thighs thicken with another layer of blubber.
Seconds later, a familiar midget jogs up beside Sarah's bulky hips. “Alright, Flowers. Let’s bust out these last three miles and thirty pounds. You came in at 19:58. Good work!”
For a long moment, Sarah remains silent.
“I just ran 10k didn’t I?” She asks with a blush on her cheeks.
Death looks up and nods his head. “Yeah, you did. Congrats. Most people never even attempt that distance.”
Sarah sheepishly chuckles as she scratches the back of her head. The girl slows down to a powerwalk.
“My sister does this sort of stuff all time, I really hate exercising but…wow, I never thought I’d be able to run that far. I never even finished the mile during gym in High School.” She says with a small laugh.
“You’re much sexier than you believe yourself to be, Miss Flowers.” Death says with a thumbs up sign.
All of a sudden, Death’s skull turns ruby red. He then pulls a black hood over his head. “I meant tougher not sexy. No! Of course you’re really sexy! I’d bust out my human form for you! Crap! I’m just a dirty old skeleton, Miss Flowers. Please forgive me! ”
“Oh it’s Sarah, call me, Sarah, little guy.” The beauty says with her head up, eyes closed, and back straight.
Due to her proud posture, Sarah’s bosom appears more robust and fuller than ever before—perhaps even a cup size larger than ten seconds ago. The raven haired lass also swung her giant hips with a little more spice—since she was quite aware of her small audience now.
By mile 8, Sarah’s chest was officially gigantic—each orb of flab had grown to the size of a globe. Each cheek of her elephantine ass was rivaling a manhole cover. Her belly bulged out a good three feet from her middle, and pale flab glistened in the sun. Sarah’s arms had also plumped up rather nicely to give her a huge yet pear shaped figure.
She now walked with haughtiness that was customary of rich folk. With each step, Sarah made sure to make her massive booty bounce so Death had something to look at behind her (if he chose to walk a bit slower). It was terrible that her little runt had gone for millenniums without being with a lady. Such a cute thing deserved to revel in a voluptuous female form. However, Sarah was impressed that he kept at her hip and kept up conversation instead of using his free pass to ogle (and touch)
“Well, my father retired and handed over his infamous Promised Land Franchise to me since I had gotten my Masters in Business at Rosedale.” Sarah said while puffing out her massive nude chest.
“Due to my work, we’ll be branching out beyond New York within the coming year and into the Boston area.” The lass looks down and curls her lips into a seductive smirk at Death. “I’ll be moving to Boston too, Azrael.”
Death turns red with embarrassment as a mortal speaks his human name. He scratches the back of his head while smiling (on the inside). Sarah then gently bumps her hip against his skull.
“Since our biggest and best Promised Land buffet will be opening up in Massachusetts. I’d like to be there and make sure most of my lunches and dinners come from it. You said I’ll never be able to drop below my current weight, so I might as well add some on right? ”
Death imagines the dark haired beauty moaning while rubbing her stuffed tummy at an All-you-can-Eat buffet. His nose cavity begins to trickle with blood. However, Death quickly regains his composure, and wipes his socket with his sleeve.
“You should do whatever makes you happy, Miss Flowers” Death says with a thumbs up sign.
Sarah grabs Death by his hoodie and lifts his light body into the air. She holds him in front of her face and then pouts.
“You shouldn’t be so formal with your girlfrien—.”
Sarah pauses, and her blue eyes begin to well with tears. “Y-you’re so…” She notices how tiny Death is in his current form. The 4ft entity was so scrawny—just like the homeless children that often stopped to smell the air in front of her buffet. In fact, their parents weren’t that much bulkier than him either.
Sarah then hugs Death against her busty chest. “Something that would make me happy is turning one of the Promise Lands into meal kitchen for the poor.” Her lips then curl into a small smile. “I-I know Dad won’t like it…but if I’m tough enough to jog 9 miles, I’m tough enough not to worry about his opinion.”
A tailwind of hurricane force sweeps up from behind Sarah and Death as the sound of a beeping watch fills the air. Death checks his wrist—there was only one minute left until Sarah’s time limit for her repentance challenge was up. She’d go to hell if she didn’t make it to the statue ahead. That unnatural tailwind was undoubtedly help from Big Boss.
“SPRINT, SARAH!” Death yells while breaking away from the embrace. “You’re almost out of time!”
The raven-haired lass begins pumping her plump arms and blubbery legs as fast as she could. She had to get to the angel statue ahead in the next 50 seconds. Sarah grunts while carrying her own weight, plus the weight of the man that starved because of her. Ninety pounds of soft blubber offered no amount of help at the moment.
A shadowy aura envelops Death; he grows to a height of 5’10. Bronze skin and black eyes craft the face of a gaunt man. A mop of grey hair grazes his shoulders. The emaciated fellow then sprints up in exercise attire beside Sarah. “Push, Flowers! Keep pushing! Posture! Watch your Posture.”
Sarah keeps her head up and back straight as possible. Her chest burns like hellfire while her giant breasts heave up and crash down after each step upon the gravel. Sarah’s drenched face is redder than a tomato. She wheezes like an asthmatic while struggling to lift her gargantuan thighs. That belly of hers offers no assistance—the tub of fat merely jiggles while weighing down Sarah’s core.
“30 Seconds, Sarah. Don’t give—Sarah!“
Flowers stumbles over a largish stone, she uses every ounce of will to fight gravity and regain her composure instead of falling to her knees.
“Twenty seven seconds!”
The angel statue was getting closer. Sarah swore that she would never go running again if she made it through this nightmare. But as she looks at the stone figure in the distance, her old mindset returns.
“Fuck! I can’t, Death! I can’t!” Sarah wheezes while slowing down.
“Haul your ass to that statue, Flowers!” Death says while summoning his scythe in his right hand. “DO YOU WANT THIS?”
Death jumps up and slices a tear in the sky—a horrific image of souls grasping for help while submerged in lava fills the atmospheric canvas. They moan in unison, “Helpppp me! Helppppp!” while clawing towards Sarah.
A glass shattering scream escapes Sarah’s throat—and she sprints down the trail at the speed of a high-school track star. Death continues slicing the sky and showing visions of hellish monstrosities, tortured souls, and things that would scare Sarah out of her wits.
“GET AWAY FROM ME!” Sarah yells while shaking her head back and forth.
Death drops his scythe and it clangs upon the trail. He then leans back and clutches his sides while in mid-air. “10 seconds!” He laughs. “W-Want some, Spiders?”
Sarah releases the loudest scream of her life while sprinting past the Angel statue.
2 minutes later.
“You.” Sarah says while stomping towards Death in fury. The lass glares at her scrawny target as he backs himself up against a nearby tree.
Death profusely sweats as Flowers balls her hand into a fist. As she walks towards him, her breasts increase a cup-size due to the final pounds of flab. They bounce up and down with each stomp upon the grass. Sarah’s rotund belly surges forward with fresh fat—jiggling while drooping more than 3ft over the waistband of her black leggings. The woman’s tree-trunk thighs add a final layer of thick blubber as she towers over her cowering boyfriend. However, Sarah’s scowl then softens into a teary smile.
“Thank you.” She says while falling to her knees and embracing Death in an amorous hug. “T-Thank you, thank you, s-so much.”
Death rubs Sarah’s back while smiling. “Ahh don’t mention it, you’re a good person deep down. Just like all the people who take repentance challenges.”
Sarah starts to cry while Death continues rubbing her back like a proud father. “You’re gonna end up doing great things, Sarah. Big Boss already made me aware of that…”
The eyes of Sarah Flowers opened within a hospital room at Mount Sinai Medical Center at 10:31 PM. The team of doctors couldn't explain to her how she gained so much weight since yesterday's car accident. But Sarah didn't mind at all. She merely shrugged, and mentioned that some things can't be explained with science.
Death sat in a chair in the far corner of the room, his skeletal hands held a bouquet of roses.